


the decline of all things

by thatdarkhairedgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdarkhairedgirl/pseuds/thatdarkhairedgirl
Summary: She is nothing like her sister. The problem is, they both know it.





	the decline of all things

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from **watername** : "dean + padma when the war goes on, and on, and on..."

**5.** Disapparating out of Hogsmeade, he grabbed her hand and thought she was her sister.

 

**4.** The safehouse they’re in is old; the house itself is in horrible shape, rubbish scattered all over and graffiti scrawled on the walls, with a pervading smell of rust and decay. Rats chitter in the dark corners and Dean stays close to the fire in the main room where the floorboards aren’t rotting, trying not to go mad while they wait for new orders. There are gaps in their party even he can’t help but notice: Harry and Ron and Hermione to the Order’s main post, Neville on the run, Ginny on the run, Luna gone abroad. Susan Bones. Michael Corner. Lavender. Parvati.

Seamus tells stories to pass the time, Dean sketches, Hannah knits and unravels and knits the same black and yellow scarf. Padma sits in the window seat, her head resting against the glass, keeping watch.

 

**3.** They’re caught in a firefight while on patrol and Padma breaks her hand blocking a hex from Flint. Dean pauses long enough to heal it, dropping an impetuous kiss to Padma’s palm after. Padma goes pale at the touch of his lips to her skin but she doesn’t pull away, not then.

 

**2.** Rain beats against the windows, fog curling into the room through the gap under the door. Dean glances up from the map they’ve spread out over the table and Padma’s face is tinted gold from the lone flickering candle they’ve chanced to light; it softens the sharp line of the scar stretching out from her mouth to her cheekbone. Padma seems to feel his gaze and lifts her eyes to meet his, studying him in the low light. “I’m not her,” is all she says, and turns her focus back to their papers.

_I know_ , he almost says, but doesn’t.

 

**1.** “I’m scared of heights,” she pants, breathless, the two of them stopped at the edge of the roof they’d raced to. From this vantage point they can see Gringotts burning, the surrounding buildings starting to crumble. There are Death Eaters sharp on their heels, they can hear them closing in.

“So am I,” he says, and takes her hand in his before they jump.


End file.
